


Teaching the Ropes

by Sakiku



Category: Naruto
Genre: Bondage, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-17
Updated: 2010-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-22 22:31:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakiku/pseuds/Sakiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shisui told him about sex. Kakashi showed him. But it takes both of them to teach Itachi the ropes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teaching the Ropes

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Itachi is still a minor here, a boy who is slowly growing to know a body that has sexual urges. Well, he is a minor according to our laws. According to Naruto-verse laws, he is an ANBU and thus fully grown. I made him mentally very mature, but occasionally it shows through that he isn’t quite a teenager yet. (and yes, I’m somewhat disgusted at myself for that). Bondage, first time, handjob, threesome, yaoi

  


**Fandom:** Naruto

**Characters:** Kakashi/Itachi/Shisui

**Words:** 7k

**Rating:** NC-17

**Summary:** Shisui told him about sex. Kakashi showed him. But it takes both of them to teach Itachi the ropes.

 **Warnings:** Itachi is still a minor here, a boy who is slowly growing to know a body that has sexual urges. Well, he is a minor according to our laws. According to Naruto-verse laws, he is an ANBU and thus fully grown. I made him mentally very mature, but occasionally it shows through that he isn’t quite a teenager yet. (and yes, I’m somewhat disgusted at myself for that). Bondage, first time, handjob, threesome, yaoi

 **A/N:** Once again, this is an answer to a kink-meme. And once again, my answer is quite belated. The prompt was Shisui/Itachi/Kakashi threesome however anon wants, with bonus points for someone being tied up and hair pulling.

\---000---

**Teaching the Ropes**

Shisui had told him about sex. About the hows and the whys and the whens and the wheres. And that there were a lot more opportunities if one didn’t just consider it as a method to sire children, like the Academy would make one believe. Itachi was young, but he was old enough to know the full story. At least, he was old enough to kill, which in ninja terms was the same.

But while Shisui had told him about sex, his taichou had shown him. Not those orange porn books he insisted on reading when off-duty. Taichou had shown him in the dark of the night when both of them had been hot from the chase and bloody from the kill and Itachi had burned with something he hadn’t known how to name. Only afterwards had he realized that it must have been the ‘arousal’ Shisui had spoken of.

The most important lesson he had learned from that was that Taichou’s sense of smell was considerably better than Itachi’s. Because he had _smelled_ that Itachi was uncomfortable, and he had _smelled_ that it wasn’t the kill or the chase but a hardness Itachi hadn’t encountered before. Itachi had smelled nothing but hot sweat and subtle body odor and the grass they crushed as they rubbed against each other under the cover of the night.

One day, Itachi had been made to gather his Taichou from the confines of his apartment. A mission, urgent, one that couldn’t wait. He hadn’t been prepared to find his Taichou tied to his bed, face down, butt up, shoulders straining to hang on to his bonds with all his might, knees tied and spread uncomfortably far apart, another man’s fingers shoved up his ass. Itachi hadn’t needed a superior sense of smell to deduct that his Taichou was enjoying it.

After that mission, at home, at night, he started wondering why Taichou had liked it. Why Itachi got a tingling feeling in his stomach when he thought of those strong, pale limbs gripping dark ropes and hanging on for all he was worth. Why Itachi was trying to imagine himself in Taichou’s position. And why that sounded even more appealing than looking at Taichou’s spread-out body.

Itachi thought he had managed to keep those thoughts to himself and not let them influence his working relationship with his team leader. He had a poker face second to none, and he was in complete control of his body language. He was as stoic as he always was.

Once again though, he had forgotten how well Taichou could smell. Three weeks and five missions after that day, the man confronted him. Every time Taichou did as much as come within ten feet of a rope, Itachi’s scent spiked with lust, and it was distracting. For both of them.

Taichou demanded for Itachi to get this obsession under control, and Itachi had to admit he didn’t know _how_. Despite knowing his way around Konoha’s red-light district (geography, not personal experience - ANBU needed to know where everything was located in Konoha), he couldn’t go there. For one, he was too young to be serviced. Not too young to have sex, but too young to be allowed to pay for it. For another, he was a shinobi. Shinobi didn’t trust strangers to tie them up.

Taichou stared at him hard. “Then who _would_ you trust?”

Itachi didn’t have to think long, looking straight into the dark sockets of the red and white mask. “The team.” Meaning: you. A long pause while he wracked his mind for anyone else. Finally, he tentatively decided to mention his cousin, too, because a list of only one seemed a bit pathetic. “Shisui.” Not that he thought Shisui was either interested or knowledgeable in tying ropes.

“Of the Body Flicker?” Taichou cocked his head in the same manner his dog summons always did. Sometimes, Itachi thought that Taichou acted more like his dogs than strictly sane. Even if Taichou’s mask was a dog.

Itachi nodded. “Yes.”

He could see how the gears in Taichou’s head were turning. He waited silently, patiently, for his captain to come to a conclusion.

Finally, he was rewarded with a sigh. “I will see if I can come up with a solution. In the meantime, take the edge off through other means. Additionally, get used to the fact that you have sexual urges now. Learn how to deal with them. I will not have you endanger the professionalism of our team.”

“Yes, captain.” He accepted the criticism with all the gravity it deserved, but nonetheless couldn’t help the small tingle in his loins. Taichou was already tilting his head backwards to better scent the air, and Itachi decided that now would be the best time to make himself scarce. There was no way Taichou hadn’t caught that last bit.

It was vexing to be so transparent all of a sudden.

Two weeks later, Taichou kept him back after a long shift of guard duty. After eight hours of staying unseen and unheard, and yet always on constant alert for possible dangers, Itachi was looking forward to some hard physical training. Guard duty wasn’t as taxing on the body as it was on the mind - he was tired, but still full of energy.

His taichou took one long look at him and once again did his strange scenting air move. The man hadn’t been obvious about it, but Itachi was quite sure he had carefully kept track of Itachi’s level of distraction for the two weeks. In the beginning, it had taken incredible effort to distance himself from his hormones. But Itachi had become quite proficient in the art of self-gratification, which had satisfied the needs of his maturing body. The rest had been taken care of with a renewal of his iron mental discipline that had suffered quite a bit under the onslaught of his unexpected new feelings.

“You are back in control.” Taichou’s voice was emotionless, the dog mask cocked slightly.

“Yes, Sir.” He was once again capable of making a clear distinction between the mission focus necessary for their dangerous work, and his personal desires and needs. It had been nearly inexcusable that he had allowed himself to slip so far. He was grateful that the captain had pointed it out to him before any damage was done.

An appraising nod. “Are you still interested in ropes?”

Itachi barely caught the appreciative inhale he made almost reflexively. He was quite sure his sent had spiked accordingly. So much for being back in control. Then again, they weren’t on duty anymore, and Taichou had touched on the subject without any prompt from Itachi.

“Yes.” He almost managed to sound calm. It had become reflex to fight down the images the word ‘ropes’ invoked, especially coming from Taichou. However, he couldn’t help the small tremor that ran through him and curled in the first stirrings of arousal.

The man was studying him intently. Itachi didn’t know what he was looking for, what Taichou thought he could read from Itachi’s masked face and armored body. Whatever it was, he seemed to have found it. “Very well. Meet me at the Western gate in an hour. No masks.”

Nodding, Itachi sped off towards the clan compound. He had to get changed first. And then he had to get away from his family again without being questioned too much. Not that it was a problem with his skills, but it was still annoying.

An hour later, Itachi was right on time. Nearly to the second. He remained in the shadows between two buildings, not keen on waiting in a spot for everyone to see. It was dark; only the stars were out because it was a new moon. He crouched motionlessly on a tiny ledge about five meters from the ground, where the haphazard architect of the building had apparently decided to make the next two floors a bit smaller than the bottom ones.

His mind though was far from motionless. Ever since Taichou had issued the invitation, he had been fighting off images and fantasies that threatened to spin his body completely out of control. As it was, his breathing was more accelerated than the run from the Uchiha compound should have caused, and it was a lot harder to stay still than usual.

But with his iron discipline, he remained a shadow amongst shadows, waiting for Taichou to show up.

“Follow me.”

The breathy whisper into his ear had been preluded by a split second of familiar chakra, which was the only reason Itachi had managed to halt his instinctive reaction. Otherwise he would have put a kunai through Taichou’s head for startling him that badly. Of course, Taichou would have evaded it with the same ease he had snuck up on Itachi, but it was the principle of things. Elite shinobi shouldn’t get startled.

So Itachi turned around and pretended he hadn’t just put some weapons back into their holster. It wasn’t a big surprise that Taichou hadn’t waited up for him; he was already two roof tops away, and Itachi jumped after him just as soundlessly.

The chase was brief but invigorating - Itachi had to work at keeping Taichou within sight as the man wasn’t emitting any chakra at all. Which also meant that Taichou wasn’t using any chakra to enhance his speed or jumping strength at the moment, and that was just flat-out scary. Well, there was a reason why Taichou was captain of their squad, and it wasn’t only superior experience.

When Taichou slipped into a small window, Itachi almost thought he had lost him for a second. However, his white hair was easily visible and guided Itachi into a moderately sized, barren room. The only item inside was a futon in the center, and a backpack in one corner. There wasn’t even a door, the only method of exit being the single window through which they had entered.

He looked curiously at Taichou, who was standing in the shadow next to the window. “What is this?” The room clearly wasn’t part of an apartment or a hotel or anything else he could come up with.

“Accident. Nearly the whole district had to be rebuilt after the Kyuubi, and someone messed up with this – forgot the door. Instead of breaking down a wall to make a door, it was decided to leave the room as it is and hand it over to ANBU. It is mainly used for surveillance purposes and infiltration training, but it has been put to… other uses as well.”

Itachi didn’t ask how Taichou knew about the room, because that was a futile effort. Taichou’s nostrils were flaring in a way that Itachi could see it even through the mask. It took a second for Itachi to realize that this was how Taichou scented the air without a second, porcelain mask to block the flow.

Almost immediately, Itachi became conscious of the fact that his arousal hadn’t waned in the least. Instead, the chase had sent his blood pumping even more vigorously, and he could barely control his anticipation. He cocked his head the same way Taichou always did, looking at his shadowy form. “So,” he prompted.

“So.” Came the non-answer.

Not that Itachi had expected a reply, but any indication of how they were supposed to proceed would have been nice. He waited.

“How much do you know?” Taichou’s voice was startling after the tense silence.

Itachi shrugged his shoulders, slightly uncomfortable. “What I saw when…” He trailed off, not quite willing to put things into words.

“Anything else?”

Itachi shook his head. Of course he knew how to tie ropes to restrain prisoners, but Taichou was well aware of that. Also, he doubted that was the kind of knowledge Taichou was asking for.

The man didn’t seem surprised at his lack of words. “Ah. And what do you want?”

But apparently that was exactly what Taichou trying to get. Words. Just like when Taichou had explained what he was doing on that one night weeks ago. And Itachi’s answer was the same as it had been then, even though he had more experience now. Even though he had thought about it so much that his fantasies probably outstripped any reality. “I don’t know.”

Taichou nodded as if he had expected that. With a slight push against the wall, he brushed by Itachi to reach for the innocuous backpack. Itachi’s skin tingled where Taichou’s shirt had touched him briefly - the only skin visible on the man were his finger tips, his toes, and his eye. The only uniform item Taichou had left off was his green jounin vest, making him a slender black shadow. And Itachi still didn’t know what to do. Should he get undressed?

He watched in confusion as Taichou pulled out a scroll and moved towards the empty futon. Upon unrolling, Itachi saw that the scroll was painted with a large seal. He didn’t know enough about seals to tell what it did. He just knew that it wasn’t an explosive note. A modified storage seal perhaps?

Taichou spread the scroll on the futon and then channeled chakra into it. After the complete absence of any other presence than Itachi’s own, Taichou’s sudden flare was like a blow to Itachi’s senses. Nonetheless he adapted as quickly as he would on the field, and was only surprised at the amount of chakra his captain put into the seal. Easily more than five times what was required for a simple storage seal. The resulting puff of smoke was bigger as well. And when it cleared away, Itachi knew why.

There, on top of the scroll and the futon, and under Taichou’s hands, there was Shisui. His cousin, flat on his stomach. Bound and gagged and blindfolded and naked and -

Itachi’s wide eyes met his Taichou’s. The man was staring back at him, testing his reaction, scenting the air. Itachi shivered, and the arousal that had already been prominent within him increased. He had mentioned Shisui only because he absolutely trusted his cousin and a list of one was ridiculous, but he hadn’t thought that Taichou would actually…

For Taichou to have summoned his cousin like that, Shisui must have been waiting in that exact same position with those exact same ropes on him for however long it had taken Taichou to fetch Itachi and talk to him. What had it felt like to be left alone, not knowing if or when he was going to be summoned? Flat on his stomach, with his hands behind his back, wrists touching ankles, elbows tied together? Shisui was still and quiet, shifting occasionally, but he was breathing calmly and didn’t look distraught at all. Itachi licked his lips.

As if he was reciting methods for cleaning kunai, his captain’s voice was bland without much inflection. “There are many ways of using ropes.” Despite his blandness, the hand he was stroking Shisui’s hogtied form with was gentle and apparently much appreciated. His eyes though never left Itachi’s.

“To restrain.” He traced the ropes wrapped around Shisui’s wrists, his knees, his ankles, above his elbows. They were tight, but not so tight that they were cutting off circulation or chafing. Additionally, it looked like Taichou had wrapped them multiple times around Shisui’s limbs to distribute the pressure. Safety precautions that clearly were omitted in the ninja way of rope tying.

“To put strain on the body.” He reached for the connection between Shisui’s wrists and ankles and lifted it slightly. It made Shisui arch beautifully, even if his breathing got more labored. Itachi shivered, realizing that his own breathing was getting labored, too.

“To create an artistic image.” Taichou lifted the connection a bit higher, and with the other hand he took a fist full of Shisui’s hair and pulled his head back. Itachi could see how much strain it was putting on his cousin, and how much flexibility the position demanded. His mouth was dry, his stomach curling so hard that it took some time for Itachi to recognize it as arousal. There was something absolutely breathtaking about the way his cousin’s slender body was held and formed and pulled by the ropes, and was molding into them like it belonged.

“To tease.” Slowly, Taichou rolled Shisui onto his side, so that his front - and the clearly visible erection - was completely exposed to Itachi’s hungry gaze. He could see how Shisui’s muscles were strained, how his stomach was working to push air in an out of his lungs. And how Taichou was kneeling behind him, a black shadow behind pale skin.

Itachi was completely mesmerized when Taichou’s hand moved to Shisui’s straining flesh and started stroking it languidly. For the first time, his cousin let out a moan, and it went straight towards Itachi’s dick. Taichou’s semi-gloved hand was firmly wrapped around Shisui’s cock, and it looked like he was doing the same things that Itachi was doing when he was alone and getting rid of his needs. Itachi _knew_ how good the pressure felt, how sensitive the head was, how wonderful the friction was.

However, Itachi didn’t know what it felt like when a hand not his own was doing the very same things. During their encounter five weeks ago, there hadn’t been anything involved but grinding and rubbing and clutching, and that was the full extent of Itachi’s experience. Besides the occasional wet dream, of course.

But, looking at the way Shisui was trying to thrust into Taichou’s grip, Itachi thought he had definitely missed out on something. He was trembling merely from watching the erotic display, feeling that Taichou’s attention was still on him instead of the moaning body beneath his hands.

After a nearly indeterminable amount of time - it seemed to have stood still as well as leaped with a giant’s footsteps - Taichou’s voice dropped into a harsh whisper. “To torment.”

He stroked faster while pulling Shisui’s head back again by his hair. Slowly, he exerted more and more pressure which made Shisui’s spine bend farther and farther, and his breathing became more and more labored. Shisui was twitching and whining almost continuously now, his whole body sweaty and flushed. Strands of hair were sticking to his face, nearly invisible against his black blindfold and the gag. He looked uncomfortable and vulnerable, even slightly pained at the pull of his hair. Why did that make Itachi harder, if anything?

“And to render completely and utterly helpless,” Taichou growled, and Itachi froze to stare into Taichou’s single, uncovered eye. There was something like killing intent in the air, but it wasn’t killing intent. Itachi had never felt anything like it before, going straight to his groin. Nonetheless, it was heavy and made it a struggle to breathe, both for him and Shisui.

Shisui was currently trying to strain into Taichou’s hand, but as his captain had already said, Shisui was completely helpless. He couldn’t move more than half an inch without tearing his own hair out, and he could barely breathe, and he sweated and moaned, and then he finally convulsed.

For the first time, Taichou ripped his attention away from Itachi and instead stroked Shisui through his orgasm, slowly releasing the tension he held on Shisui’s hair. Itachi’s cousin was shivering and panting, trying to curl up as much as his bonds allowed while he came down from his high. Taichou was caressing his skin, mumbling something into his ear that Itachi couldn’t hear. Shisui didn’t react, but Itachi thought that a minute rest of tension flowed out of him until he was completely limp.

Itachi was still rooted to his spot, mouth open and panting shallowly, taking in everything with tremors running through his body. He didn’t dare move lest he explode.

Finally, Taichou’s attention focused back on Itachi. Some of the incredible intensity from before was gone, but not all of it. “But in the end, if he had given me the signal at any point of time-“ despite the awkward position, Shisui managed to snap his fingers three times in a clearly audible way, “I would have cut him loose without question.”

Within two seconds, the ropes had fallen away from Shisui’s skin, and Taichou was carefully putting his limbs down at a more natural angle. Then he took out the gag and pulled the blindfold away and massaged the blood flow back into Shisui’s abused appendages.

Shisui moaned appreciatively, not muffled behind a gag. It was surprisingly loud in the empty room. Then he looked at Itachi for the first time since Taichou had brought him here. Itachi didn’t know how to react, but he did know that the embers in his guts burned hotter at the slow smile on Shisui’s face.

“Well,” his cousin sat up and cleared his throat because his voice was a hoarse rumble, “now that you have seen some of what is possible - what do you want, Itachi?”

Itachi stared at the white globs of cum staining Shisui’s abdomen. They were slowly following the call of gravity, sliding down to the spot they had originated from. “I…”

Motion from behind Shisui. Taichou was getting up and slinking soundlessly towards the abandoned backpack. Itachi could see how Taichou’s loose pants were tented - exactly the same as Itachi’s as a quick glance downwards confirmed - and yet he moved without showing any strain. Taichou made it look so _easy_ to be completely unaffected by his blatant and insistent arousal. Itachi had troubles to let his hands remain at his sides and not move them to the front of his pants, either to hide his erection or to squeeze it.

Taichou grabbed something from the backpack, wiped his hands on it, and then threw it towards Shisui who caught it reflexively. A towel. Shisui used it to remove the evidence of his earlier orgasm.

Licking his lips, Itachi couldn’t help but stay glued to the languid motion of dark cloth against pale skin and sparse, black hair.

“You?” his cousin prompted, rubbing the cloth across his abdomen without looking.

The smirk in Shisui’s voice at his distraction was audible, and Itachi’s eyes flickered up automatically to rest on Shisui’s face instead of his lap. Despite the fact that Shisui was sitting - well, more like lounging - on the futon and Itachi was standing, he felt like he was the smaller one.

He licked his lips again, trying to find his train of thought that had been completely derailed by Taichou’s actions. “I want to…”

But he still wasn’t capable of forming rational thought. Images of Shisui flashed through his head, flushed and bent backwards so far that he resembled an inverted octopus. Images of Taichou baring Shisui’s throat and stroking his cock. Images that had been reality a scant few minutes earlier and centered around his cousin’s naked form.

Itachi had never had so much trouble staying focused on one thing. His body was clamoring in a most insistent manner, his cock so hard and sensitive that he could feel the fabric of his pants rub against it with every shallow breath. His heart was pounding and his guts were curling, and breathtaking images, one more arousing than the next, were randomly popping up in front of his inner eye.

 “Itachi.”

That one word, spoken in Taichou’s no-nonsense command voice, served almost like a cold shower. It was the same voice that Taichou used during missions to get the team to listen to him. Sure, on duty Taichou always called him by his code name, but the sentiment was the same: Focus. Control yourself.

With embarrassment tinting his cheeks, Itachi straightened himself and met Taichou’s single eye as calmly as possible under those circumstances. Circumstances being a naked Shisui still wiping himself down on the futon, and both Taichou and Itachi facing each other with boners tenting their pants.

He cleared his throat, fishing for words that didn’t want to come because they expressed his own need. And his lack of experience.

“I would like to- to feel ropes, and…” Itachi fidgeted briefly, not quite able to keep staring into Taichou’s half-lidded eye. “I don’t know enough to be more specific.”

“You want to be tied?”

“Yes.” Itachi’s voice almost gave out on him, and he diligently ignored all reasons as to why that might be.

His captain nodded. “That is alright. Your safewords are yellow and red. Yellow to stop temporarily, red to stop completely and cut the ropes. There won’t be anything to keep you from talking, so verbal safewords should be enough. Questions?”

“No.” Yes. Maybe. Did he want to ask what Taichou was going to do? Would he know what to do with the answer Taichou would inevitably give?

“Good. Now take off your shirt.”

Itachi complied wordlessly, suppressing the shiver that threatened to run through his body. Somehow, this felt completely different from when he was undressing in one of the communal bathhouses, even though there were people watching there, too.

He deliberately didn’t lick his lips as he folded his shirt and placed it next to the backpack. Neither did he fold his arms in front of his bare chest or fidget or do anything else to portray his nervousness.

From his position on the futon, Shisui was watching the proceedings with interest, but Itachi couldn’t quite look at him. Taichou had returned to the backpack and was now pulling out some rope that was about as thick as a finger. It looked to be the same kind of rope that had bound Shisui, the same kind of rope whose pieces were still lying where it had fallen off Shisui’s skin when Taichou had cut his cousin loose.

Once again images flooded his mind. Taichou naked and straining against ropes with someone’s fingers up his ass. Shisui gagged and blindfolded and completely at Taichou’s mercy. Rope and skin and sweat and Taichou’s hand that had rubbed him to completion months ago-

“Hands in front of you. Cross them at the wrist.”

Taichou’s single eye was watching him in a way that made goosebumps rise on his skin. Shisui, too, was watching him intently, at the same time collecting the pieces of rope that had scattered around him.

Itachi had to take care not to flinch when Taichou first touched him, looping several coils of rope around his crossed wrists. For some reason, Taichou’s proximity felt… menacing all of a sudden. And it wasn’t anything Taichou was doing; it was the change in Itachi’s perspective. Instead of standing there as Taichou’s subordinate or fellow shinobi, Itachi suddenly was someone to be tied up, to be naked and vulnerable.

His nostrils were flaring and his muscles were tense as Itachi watched how Taichou tied the rope. Instead of looping his wrists together tightly, the rope was quite loose. There was enough slack that even someone without any ninja training would be able to free themselves effortlessly. However, Taichou doubled back and wrapped the rope around the excessive length between Itachi’s wrists. In the end, it looked like Itachi’s arms were bound by connected cuffs, snug but not too tight. Taichou tested it by fitting a finger between the ropes and Itachi’s skin.

“Good. Now pull at the ropes a bit to get a feel for them.”

Tugging at his wrists, Itachi tested out how they restrained his movement. As far as restraints went though, these were absolutely harmless. They were very comfortable and didn’t chafe or cut off his circulation. If he had worn a thigh holster, he would have easily been able to reach his weapons. And although his hands were tied, he could still use nearly all elbow techniques he knew. He’d simply have to adjust to his changed balance. Even seals were still possible to some extent.

He rolled his shoulders. But he wouldn’t have to defend himself. Not here and not now with both Taichou and Shisui watching him. Watching over him.

Deliberately, he stilled his movements and eased some tension out of his back and neck. He breathed deeply a few times and set his mind to relax. Well, as much as he could relax with the way Taichou and Shisui were eyeing him.

“Status? Green, yellow, red?”

Itachi’s eyes snapped towards his captain. Taichou had stepped out of his immediate personal space and was looking at him with deceptive boredom in his one eye. His gloved hands were pushed lazily into his pockets, his white hair falling over his slanted headband. If it weren’t for the clearly visible bulge and the charged atmosphere around him, Itachi would have though his Taichou was completely uninterested.

He focused on Taichou’s cloth mask, and how it seamlessly turned into a black, long-sleeved shirt. “Green, as long as it means ‘alright’.”

“Yes.”

Once again, Taichou stepped into his personal space. It was hard not to notice that Taichou was nearly a head and a half taller than him. And that he was nine years older, having already come into his full adult musculature whereas Itachi still had to make do with a body at the beginning of puberty. In an all-out fight with chakra and ninja techniques, Itachi could give Taichou a good challenge. But here?

Taichou’s ungloved finger tips touched Itachi’s ANBU tattoo. It was nearly a year old, healed a long time ago. Still, the touch sent shivers through Itachi, as if the red ink was fresh and raw.

He turned his head as far as he could to follow Taichou’s fingers as they trailed up to his shoulder and then down his shoulderblade towards his spine. Taichou had stepped behind him, merely gliding his fingers over Itachi’s bare back, not exerting any pressure whatsoever. Nonetheless, Itachi felt himself tensing when Taichou moved out of his immediate field of vision, and all of a sudden his bound wrists seemed a very big obstacle towards protecting his back.

“You aren’t used to being touched, are you?”

Taichou’s voice held more of a musing, rhetoric character. Itachi still answered. “No.”

From the sound of shifting fabric, he thought that Taichou had nodded. He sounded as unfazed as ever. “I am going to keep touching you.”

“Yes.” It was hard to keep breathing in a somewhat steady rhythm as something in Itachi’s gut tightened. And this time, he wasn’t quite certain whether it was arousal or fear. Or maybe a bit of both.

Taichou’s fingers wandered lower, below his floating ribs, across his kidneys, towards the small of his back. Itachi felt himself tensing more and more, his elbows as far back as his bound wrists allowed. He clawed his toes into his sandals in a barely suppressed reflex to move from the touch, back and thighs completely rigid so that he wouldn’t arch away. That brought his bound hands into very close proximity to his erection, but he didn’t do anything. For the moment, he was too busy trying not to tug too hard at the rope around his wrists.

Taichou’s voice stilled him. “Do you remember the day you fetched me for the mission?”

Itachi froze as a shiver ran through him. Taichou naked, his back straining, his arms clenching around bonds as he half knelt, half lay on the bed. Completely naked, shadows playing across his sweaty skin depending on how his muscles bunched.

“Yes.” He was ashamed that he couldn’t completely control his tremor.

Taichou chuckled and his voice deepened. “Would you have liked to do to me what I am doing to you now?”

Run his finger down Taichou’s back and see how he arched and writhed? How his skin twitched at the soft touch and rose in anticipation?

Itachi’s eyes widened as they defocused all of a sudden, his mouth dropping open in a surprised exhale. He trembled with pent-up desire, Taichou’s fingers on his spine suddenly turning into the epitome of all his wet dreams.

He heard Taichou inhale a few times, then chuckle again. “Hands behind your head.”

Only afterwards did Itachi realize that Taichou had just smelled his sudden swell in arousal. He blushed and complied. As soon as his hands had cleared his head, he felt Taichou grab the rope connecting his wrists, tug it down to the nape of Itachi’s neck, and hold it there. Even if he wanted to now, Itachi couldn’t break the grip because of the unfortunate angle of leverage.

It felt even more daunting to leave his ribs and sides completely unprotected like that.

With Shisui watching him.

His cousin had been sitting so still that Itachi had completely forgotten about him, reduced to a silent shadow in the corner of his vision. Now though, Shisui was getting up and dropping the destroyed rope pieces into Taichou’s backpack. Shisui was completely unselfconscious of his nudity and the way Itachi studied him as he strode across the cold tatami mats.

He came to stand in front of Itachi, less than an arm’s length away. One of Itachi’s arm’s lengths. But Itachi’s arms were bound and folded behind his head, with Taichou’s hand a heavy weight above Itachi’s low pony tail.

Shisui, too, was taller than him, but by not as much as Taichou. Still, if Shisui wanted to do anything, there was nothing Itachi could do to defend himself. He stared up into his cousin’s eyes, panting softly.

That was the moment Taichou’s fingers - the ones on his spine, not the ones holding his arms behind his head - continued wandering, exploring Itachi’s waist and flanks. Itachi gasped and arched, and he didn’t know if he was arching away or into those fingers. Shisui’s eyes were burning into his as Itachi struggled with the knowledge that his sides and his stomach were completely vulnerable now.

Shisui just kept standing there though, not doing anything while the touch of Taichou’s fingers became almost electric despite, or because of, its softness. It slid lower, for the first time brushing the waistband of Itachi’s pants. And all the tension shot curling into his arousal.

Knees trembling, Itachi tried to keep from hyperventilating. The way Taichou was holding his arms behind his head prevented him from getting a good, deep breath; his stomach working overtime pumping air in and out of his lungs.

With a bit of lightheaded humor clouding his mind, Itachi decided that now he knew what Taichou had meant earlier by ‘putting strain on the body’.

Shisui’s eyes were still boring into his, making Itachi think of the way his cousin had arched into Taichou’s grip. How he had strained and moaned, and how Taichou had responded by tightening his grip even more.

Almost on instinct, Itachi’s hips thrust forward, and he gasped at the way his arousal pressed against the fabric of his pants.

Taichou’s chuckle was as dark as it was arousing as his fingers trailed Itachi’s waistband nearly to the front. “You want someone to touch you down there, don’t you?” He flicked a finger inside, and it nearly cost Itachi his reason.

“Ye-es-“ Itachi wasn’t quite prepared for the way his voice broke in the middle of the word, going from a thick groan to a higher-pitched almost-whine. For some reason though he didn’t feel as mortified as he thought he should, his body’s needs clouding his mind in a way he hadn’t felt before.

“Then Shisui, if you would?”

Shisui’s eyes flickered from Itachi to Taichou for reaffirmation, and then back to Itachi. Itachi trembled a full-body shudder when Shisui smirked down at him and licked his lips. “It would be my pleasure.”

Without hesitation, Shisui’s fingers hooked beneath Itachi’s waistband, unbuttoned it, and freed his erection from his boxers. At the same time, Taichou tugged at Itachi’s arms so that he was forced to arch backwards and couldn’t see what exactly Shisui was doing down there.

Itachi was caught halfway between a gasp and a whine and being totally frozen. He hadn’t thought that- Well, he _had_ wanted someone to touch him, but- What if Shisui thought that- He was small, hadn’t really started growing hair down there yet, and-

A hand wrapped firmly around his cock and dissolved his panicked thoughts into fireworks.

Itachi couldn’t distinguish anymore where his need was generated from. His arms were aching, his chest was heaving for air, his whole skin was tingling and hypersensitive, and whatever Shisui was doing with his erection was blowing his mind. Pulling and rubbing and sliding and massaging, and oh kami, it felt so much more incredible than anything Itachi had ever experienced…

Somewhere in the middle of staring up sightlessly, Taichou’s hand came up and rested a single finger between Itachi’s eyebrows, the heel of his palm warm against Itachi’s sweaty scalp. For some reason, the soft touch in the center of his forehead was at the same time unbearable and a necessary counterpoint to the heat in his groin. It focused his mind and pulled it into his body, and it tingled in a maddening itch.

Then Shisui found his balls and rolled them softly in his hand while rubbing his thumb across his head.

That was the last straw for Itachi, who had been hard ever since Taichou had made his offer earlier. He arched backwards and strained against Taichou’s grip and exploded in a hoarse cry.

It was a good thing that Shisui had wrapped an arm around Itachi’s waist just before his legs buckled. On the edge of his awareness, Itachi felt himself being maneuvered over to the futon, Taichou slowly easing the strain on his arms until they came to a rest somewhere above his head. Taichou’s hands though, one on his wrists and on his head, stayed a constant presence, the finger between Itachi’s brows massaging slow, hypnotic circles.

Itachi felt himself being cleaned - idly he wondered if it was the same rag Shisui had already wiped himself down with - and tucked away. Shisui sat down somewhere next to Taichou, and while Itachi’s breathing calmed, Taichou’s became more ragged. The finger on Itachi’s brow kept massaging, but Itachi could clearly feel the small tremors running through the older man.

Itachi knew what it meant. But with the languor of after-glow making his brain fuzzy, he neither minded nor cared.

When Taichou’s panting grew an almost inaudible whine at the beginning of every breath, Itachi knew that his captain was coming close. He had made the same sounds during that night when blood had run hot and they had just survived an exhilarating rush of battle, when he had shown Itachi what sex was.

It was over quickly after that. Taichou gasped and froze for several long seconds, then relaxed in a long exhale. The finger massaging circles on Itachi’s brow gradually relaxed, too, and trailed to Itachi’s wrists. Itachi could feel how the ropes were being unbound, finally giving him an incentive to pull himself out of his lethargy and look around.

Taichou was sitting behind Itachi’s head in a half-sprawl, focused on undoing all the loops of rope he had wrapped around Itachi’s wrists. Shisui was just getting up, wiping his hand on the black rag that looked decidedly wet by now. He caught Itachi’s eyes for a moment and smiled down at him. Then he walked over to the backpack and pulled out a pair of pants, a pair of sandals, and a shirt. All of them black except for the shirt - it was white with the Uchiha crest sown prominently onto its back.

Within seconds Shirui was dressed, at about the same time as Itachi felt the last coils of rope slip off his wrists.

“Take it slow for a few minutes,” Taichou advised as he got up, too, straightening out the rope into neat and even loops.

Itachi just grunted and slowly brought his arms back to his side. He winced a bit at the soreness in his shoulders and didn’t use his arms at all to sit up. Rotating his joints to get them back into working order, he barely caught the piece of cloth Taichou threw him. Not the rag used for cleaning because he had already been cleaned up; rather it was Itachi’s shirt.

“Thank you,” he rasped, a bit surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded.

The circulation in his arms had normalized to the point that he had little trouble pulling on the piece of fabric. Then he got up and stepped off the futon.

Taichou made quick work of the mattress, folding it and then placing it on a scroll. With a small flare of chakra it was sealed, and the scroll vanished into the backpack.

A last look around showed that there was nothing left on the bare tatami mats. Nothing to show what had happened only minutes ago.

Shisui was the first one to leave. With a silent nod towards them, he hopped onto the window sill and jumped out into the night.

Taichou was the next one. Shouldering his backpack, he looked at Itachi while scenting the air. Itachi didn’t know what exactly he could smell above their musk, because even Itachi’s average nose could detect it clouding the air. But whatever it was, it seemed to satisfy his captain.

“You are alright,” Taichou more stated than asked.

Itachi nodded and repeated his earlier statement with all the gravity it deserved. “Thank you.”

Taichou merely waved him off, vanishing through the window with the same effortless strength he had used to enter.

Itachi followed a minute later, yawning. All thoughts of training had left his mind; he was tired enough that he was going to fall into bed as soon as he got home. Well, maybe after a shower. Everything else - like a potential awkwardness between Shisui and him, or between Taichou and him - could wait until tomorrow.

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End file.
